[Hector sighs, and sets about pouring a beer. Of course. Trevor doesn't care. Hector likes the Belmont, but in the words of the man himself, 'uh...whatever'.]

No, there were the vampire generals. From what I understand, you killed most of them.

[He brings Trevor the glass and settles into a chair across from the couch.]

They were different from Dracula. Like vindictive, murderous cats, each chasing their own mouse.